Gone Forever
by mysticknightsofscotland
Summary: Rumple needs to find a way back to Belle after the events in "Heroes and Villains", but at what price?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Once Upon A Time. I'm just playing in their world for a bit.

**WARNINGS:** Rumbelle heartbreak

**SPOILERS:** Takes place immediately after the **Season 4 winter finale, "Heroes and Villains"**, not counting the "six weeks later" teaser. Minor reference to Queens of Darkness, but essentially focuses on what happens after the scene at the town line.

**Self-Prompt:** I had a dream the morning of the winter finale that a special Rumple-only episode aired Sunday morning with a western-y Rumple voiceover narration. The dream meshed so well with the actual "Heroes and Villains" episode, that I couldn't help but give this a shot. Started off as tragic/comic and ended up kinda... well I'll let you find out. Currently four chapters.

* * *

**Gone Forever**

"_Love. It's like a delicate flame. And once it's gone, it's gone forever."_

_\- Mr. Gold (1.12 Skin Deep)_

Storybrooke was gone. _Belle_ was gone. And it hurt all the worse because the town _was_ there. Somewhere less than a foot away from where his palms rested against the asphalt, a hideous orange line was spray-painted across the road. He just couldn't see it. He couldn't see _her_. He couldn't hear _her_. He had no way of knowing if she was still standing not five feet away, holding the dagger out behind her turned back.

Had she turned, he knew she could see _him_, could hear _his_ pleas and _his_ tears. But all the begging in the world could not convince the spell concealing the town to allow him back in. And even if Belle hadn't walked away or called for a lift back into town, she had shown no intention of joining him in exile.

Still he knelt there, staring down a dark forest road, murmuring his wife's name each time a fresh wave of tears struck. So many lies, so many regrets woven into the thick cloak of darkness that even now was wrapped around his soul. He was powerless in the Land Without Magic. Even the spell supporting his ankle dissipated the moment he stepped through the barrier. But the darkness, the fear, remained. The distance he would have to limp, or even crawl, to reach the diner down the road was impossible. How could he face that long, painful journey when his light, his heart, his _Belle_ was here?

He spent the night by that invisible barrier. It took hours for him to convince himself that Belle had long since made it back to town, that no one remained to listen to his cries. It took another hour to inch his way to the side of the road, because each twinge in his ankle would remind him of Bae, of the promise he'd made on his son's grave, a promise he'd broken almost immediately, and he would curl into himself and weep for all he had lost.

It was almost dawn by the time he settled into the grass to sleep. It wasn't much more comfortable than the middle of the road, but at least he had a tree to lean against and a root to rest his ankle on. He didn't sleep anyway, only snoozed, waking in fitful starts whenever he imagined he heard a car.

But no one was coming for him. No one _could_. He had to figure out a way to get back in and win Belle back, but his traitorous mind kept replaying her words as she'd banished him.

_It's too late. Once, I saw the man behind the beast. Now there's only a beast._

He had her love, and he shut her out to the point that _she_ shut _him_ out when he needed most to be let in. And now she was gone. Gone forever. She wasn't coming back. And it was his fault. Always his fault.

He had just made up his mind to try to reach that diner before spending another night by the road when something changed. At first it was just a flicker, a wavy disruption in the air like heat in summer. But then he blinked, and there was the orange line stretching across the road.

He scrambled for a branch, any fallen branch, to use in place of a cane. The barrier was gone. He could go home. To Belle. Whether it had faded on its own or the Charmings and Regina had found a way to bring it down didn't matter. He was going _home_.

He found a suitable walking stick and limped to the line. Belle would be upset at first, thinking he'd orchestrated his own return, but he could handle that. As long as she didn't use the dagger to force him into a more permanent exile. He just needed a chance to explain, to apologize. Even if she chose to lock him in a jail cell for everything he'd done, it would still be preferable to never seeing her again.

He stepped over the line.

* * *

… _And the former Evil Queen was able to leave Storybrooke to seek her happy ending and bring Robin Hood home._

Henry put down his pen and sighed. If only happy endings were that easy. He had found this library, the Author's secret lair, only last night. Operation Mongoose was in full swing. But then this morning, Ruby was comforting a red-eyed Belle over breakfast at Granny's, and Emma and Hook had told him what he had missed.

He didn't understand it. He didn't want to believe it. But the long list of recent misdeeds Killian rattled off was hard to defend. Grandpa Gold was a villain. And Operation Mongoose was ruined. If Beauty and the Beast could go from happy ending to devastation in a matter of months, what hope did his mom have as the Evil Queen?

He had run here to hide and think. The result of those thoughts lay before him, several pages covered in scribbles of heartbreak, betrayal, and a desperate desire for hope. He had never kept a journal before, but it seemed to help more than those sessions with Dr. Hopper his mom made him go to before the curse broke. He probably shouldn't have used one of the blank storybooks, but now that he had, he might as well keep it.

He tucked the book into his bag and headed back into town. The abandoned mansion was on the outskirts of Storybrooke, near the water. By the time he reached Main Street, it was almost evening, and the town was abuzz with gossip. He slowed, watching people whisper to each other then scurry across the way to confer with someone else. He hadn't seen this much activity in terms of gossip since the curse broke and Sneezy lost his memories stepping over the town line.

He stopped someone and asked what was going on.

"The Snow Queen's spell is broken," they whispered, excitement mixing with fear. "The Dark One has returned, but he's gone mad!"

* * *

_Damn stupid portals._

_I stepped over the line outside Storybrooke, Maine, and landed on an empty bloody beach in the Enchanted Forest. Which beach, I couldn't tell. The sun was just beginning its decent over the ocean behind me, and this wide stretch of sand met a forest further inland. Not any beach I knew._

_My ankle was whole, the tree branch I had been leaning on was gone, and my cursed appearance was back, but I was still wearing my suit instead of dragonskin leathers._

_Bloody stupid indecisive portals._

_With my magic back, that inconsistency was rectified immediately. Now all I had to do was find Belle and figure out how to apologize._

_Because that's how portals work. They take you to wherever you were thinking of. Belle had banished me from Storybrooke, but if the portal had taken me here, then she had to be in the Enchanted Forest, no matter the implausibility of how she got here._

_I just had to find her._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Coming back from the dead and being a slave to the Wicked Witch tends to do that to you."

\- Mr. Gold (4.11 Heroes and Villains)

_Someone was standing in my hall._

_Her red gown accented with black diamonds and lace was one I had never seen her wear, but the way she held her head high even as she trailed her fingers across the curve of my spinning wheel was unmistakable. The caress was as disdainful as it was fond remembrance._

_I bowed when she turned, crouching on the floor, arms spread wide. One can never be too careful with spirits._

"_You're supposed to be dead, dearie," I said, looking up._

_Cora laughed, quite daintily, I must say. "Oh, Rumple. If I'm dead, does that mean you are too?"_

_I stood. I didn't have an answer for that. A death-dream would explain all the weird inconsistencies, like what in seven kingdoms had happened to my dining table. The hall looked far too empty without it taking up all the space in the middle. While I was trying to think, the door knocked._

"_Mr. Gold?" the voice on the other side called. "I, I mean Rumplestiltskin. Er, Dark One? Oh, bother."_

_I rolled my eyes. That stammer. What the hell did the cricket want?_

"_Come in, dearie!"_

"_Oh, right." The door creaked open, and a dalmatian scrabbled forward, straining at the leash and growling. Dr. Hopper got dragged through the door behind his dog._

_Odd. What happened to being a cricket?_

"_Quiet, Ursula. Down, girl."_

_Oh, this was good. I laughed._

"_Let me guess," I said, holding up my hands as I walked over to where Hopper had managed to restrain the dog. I pointed at Ursula with both hands. "Cruella?"_

_Archie looked confused and shook his head. "That's not... I came here because I thought that you might... that you would, er, should..."_

"_Yes, yes! Get to the point!"_

_The psychiatrist/conscience human/cricket flinched. "Right," he muttered. He took a deep breath and dared to look me in the eye. "Belle," he said. "It's about Belle."_

* * *

"What do you mean, he's gone mad?" Henry asked, but they had already moved on to the next link of the grapevine. He'd have to find out on his own.

There were only so many places that Grandpa Gold might go if he came back, but if he was crazy like Emma said he had been before she'd separated him from Neal, then he could be anywhere.

He decided to try the library first. It wasn't a very likely place, but at least he could let Belle know Mr. Gold was back if she hadn't already heard. There was a subtle shift in the gossip chain as he neared the library. No one was standing anywhere near the clock tower, but everyone kept glancing at the closed library doors. He inched the door open and slipped inside, dropping his bag next to the desk.

Muffled voices sounded from further inside. He found them in the back, near the end of fiction. Regina, Emma, and Dr. Hopper stood back while David and Belle hovered around an off-balanced Mr. Gold. He was turning back and forth, searching for something, but unaware of the books he kept knocking off the shelves and tripping over. David would catch him whenever he started to fall, but couldn't seem to hold on to him or get his attention.

Henry heard Gold mutter something about Belle starving in a cage, but when she tried to tell him she was _right there_, he looked up at her with no recognition. He looked right through her, then went back to his frantic search for nothing.

Belle stumbled back to lean against a shelf, sobbing.

"What's wrong with him?" Henry asked, making everyone turn.

"Henry," Emma said, coming over to wrap her arms around him. "Where have you been, kid? We were worried."

"I just took a long walk. I'm fine. What about him?"

"The spell on the town line collapsed, and he came back," Regina said, watching Gold.

"He seems to be in some kind of sleepwalking state," continued Archie. "Not recognizing where he is, or who he's talking to."

"Is this because he came back?"

Regina sighed. "We don't know."

"And until we know what's causing this," Emma said, "we don't know how to help."

"Right now, we're just trying to keep him from hurting himself," David said, trying to keep Gold corralled in the aisle.

Grandpa Gold shoved him aside like he wasn't even there and stumbled towards the door. Henry ran to block him, catching him in a hug. He struggled to keep moving, as if he didn't know he was caught, but Henry held tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Belle's safe. You're safe. Just please, wake up."

Gold stilled, a hand coming to rest on Henry's head. "Bae," he breathed, his eyes slightly more focused.

Henry's grip loosened, and he was gone, out the door and away, no longer stumbling, but full of furious energy. The library doors cracked their hinges as he left.

Henry glanced back at everyone else. After a shared moment of shock, they heard a scream.

"Oh, shit," said Emma, darting for the doors. The others followed.

They'd let an unhinged Dark One loose in Storybrooke.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You didn't tell him the price!"

\- Rumplestiltskin (3.14 Quiet Minds)

_I burst into the Charmings' throne room, the doors crashing open before me._

"_Zelena!"_

_The room was empty, save for a ludicrous throne that appeared to be made of meat pies. She had a year's supply of food, and yet she was allowing Belle to starve while she kept her locked away? The insane lunatic deserved to die choking on her precious pastries._

"_Killing you once wasn't enough, dearie? Show yourself!"_

_Green smoke swirled around the throne, and when it dissipated, the wicked green witch sat there, pouting._

"_Come now, darling. That's hardly any way to get what you want."_

"_Where's Belle?"_

_Zelena scowled. "Why do you want her when she betrayed you? She doesn't want you anymore, _dearie_. Just like Cora. Just like Milah. Just like your _father_."_

"_Shut up." The pain was suffocating. Belle _couldn't_ be like them. But she was. She forced me over the line without giving me a chance to explain. Milah had listened at least, little good that did. She hadn't understood. Maybe Belle wouldn't either._

_Zelena stood and approached me, circling. "She doesn't love you. She loved a shadow of a thought that you could _never_ live up to."_

"_Shut up." What did Zelena know of what I could be? The love Belle and I shared was true. My curse wouldn't have almost broken the first time we kissed otherwise. That had never happened with Cora. And Belle had cried when she used the dagger against me, both when it was fake and she wanted to see the Snow Queen, and when it was painfully real. She apologized the first time and couldn't bear to watch my final moments as I crossed out of Storybrooke and lost my magic. "You know nothing."_

"_What I know, doll," Zelena said, her voice soft, "is that you keep pushing away the only person who loves you for who you are, not who you could be." Her hand trailed across my shoulders as she walked behind me._

_I glared at her. "You led my son to his death. You forced me to become your slave, locked me in a cage and treated me like a dog. You tried to make me kill Belle! And you expect me to call that love?"_

_Power sparked from my hands and the room began to shake. I was going to enjoy killing her again. And this time, she'd stay dead._

* * *

It was like the night of the wraith all over again. All the lights on Main street were flickering, and a fierce wind was blowing trash and debris into the air.

Belle took one look and darted back inside the library. Regina, Emma, and David braved the storm, debating which way Mr. Gold might have gone. In the end, they split up, leaving Henry with Dr. Hopper.

"This is my fault," said Henry.

"What? No, of course not. Any one of us could have said something to set him off. Or, it could have been none of us. It's difficult to know what he thinks he sees."

"But this is my fault. What he said before, about Belle starving in a cage, he's looking for her. But he's not going to find her."

Something sparked and a telephone pole came crashing down. Henry and Archie retreated back inside.

"I don't understand," Archie said. "Belle was here, but he didn't recognize her."

"Exactly!" Henry pulled the storybook from his bag. "He's in his head, seeing things we don't see." He opened the book to the first page. "I wrote this after I found out what had happened."

Archie looked it over while Henry continued.

"I was mad at him. I wanted to punish him. But he was already gone, so I wrote until I wasn't mad anymore. Then I wrote about how I wished the spell on the town line would come down so my mom can find her happy ending with Robin Hood and still come back."

"You're telling me you broke the spell by writing in this storybook?" Archie asked.

"Yes. And when it came down, Grandpa Gold must have still been near the town line. He must have seen it and come back."

"And got caught in the spell you wrote." Archie blinked.

The library lights flickered and went out.

"We have to find my mom and figure out how to fix this before he reaches the end of the story." Henry shoved the book back into his bag and ran out the door before Archie could stop him.

The minute he stepped outside, though, the storm quieted.

"No."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Magic always has a price. And this... this is it."

\- Mr. Gold (2.22 … And Straight On Till Morning)

_The meat pie throne really wasn't all that comfortable. There was something wrong with Zelena's head if she thought this pile of stale pastries was a good idea. A waste of food._

_Oh. Wait. She's dead. And I no closer to finding Belle._

_I searched the castle, starting with the dungeon the Charmings had locked me in before the curse. She wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere._

_I tried to focus, summoning all the emotions I felt about Belle. Love, betrayal, fear, concern, guilt. The power built inside me until I felt a distant _tug_, and I let go, teleporting to where I hoped she was._

_I was on the beach again. The same bloody empty beach. She had to be here somewhere. I reached out with my magic, trying to sense her, hear her, anything, but there was nothing._

_I wandered alongside the water until I reached a narrow cove with steep cliffs rising on three sides. Perhaps a meter of sand ran along the base of the cliff, and it took about two hundred paces to reach the back wall. The sound of the waves was amplified and distorted in this place, but when I looked back out the mouth of the cove, the setting sun was in direct alignment._

_Just as the sun touched the horizon, the wind began to blow, making strange music in the rock crevices. I shivered, unable to look away from the fading light or silence the whispering rocks._

Where once was light, now darkness falls.

Where once was love, love is no more.

_Something washed ashore with the waves. I looked down._

"_Belle!"_

_I dropped to my knees and pulled her out of the water. She wasn't moving. She wasn't _breathing_. A part of me knew... but I wouldn't listen. I tried to heal her with my magic, but it didn't work._

"_Belle, please wake up. Don't leave me like this."_

_I held her in my lap and brushed the wet strands of hair out of her face. So beautiful. So peaceful. I kissed her._

_Nothing. No sign of life. I shut my eyes, resting my forehead against hers, my tears falling on her face._

These tears you cry have come too late.

Take back the lies, the hurt, the blame.

_I looked up and saw two more bodies on the shore. Bae, as he'd been when he'd given his life for mine, and..._

"_Oh gods, no," I choked on my tears. Not the boy, not Henry. Not the only thing I had left of my son._

_He lay on his back, his arms spread casually. The handsome little suit he wore to work in my shop was soaked and wrinkled beyond repair, clinging and billowing by turns as the waves continued to wash over him._

And you will weep when you face the end alone.

You are lost. You can never go home.

_My family. Everything and everyone I'd ever fought for. Given my life for. Gone. Gone forever. And there was nothing I could do about it._

_The sun was gone, the light was fading, and the damn rocks wouldn't stop singing._

You are lost. You can never go home.

You are lost. You can never go home.

* * *

It was midnight when they finally let Henry in to see his grandfather. He had refused to go to bed until they did. Even then, they wouldn't let him down there alone.

The hospital basement was cold. Henry couldn't imagine keeping anyone down here for a night, let alone the 28 years Belle had been locked away during the curse, but his moms assured him it was only temporary. Belle had tamed him with the dagger, but until he came out of whatever trance he was in, no one was taking any chances.

Mr. Gold sat on the cot in his cell, still dressed in his rumpled suit. Belle must have washed his face and combed his hair because he stared straight through the opposite wall and didn't blink when Henry and Dr. Hopper entered. A tray of food sat untouched on a table.

"Mr. Gold?"

No response. Henry looked up at Archie. The psychiatrist nodded and motioned him forward, taking a place by the door. Henry inched towards the cot and knelt beside his grandpa. Tears were running down Rumplestiltskin's face, the only evidence of what could possibly be going on inside his mind.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Henry said, "but I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I was mad at you. You can understand that, right? I should have stayed away from magic, but I didn't know what I was doing, that anything I wrote could become real. I'm not sorry that I broke the spell on the town line. It let you come back and it will let my mom find Robin Hood again without having to leave me. But I'm sorry you got caught like this."

Still no movement except for an occasional slow blink. Henry pulled the storybook out of his bag and opened to the first page.

"If what I wrote in here is keeping you from coming back to us, then I want to end it."

He grasped the top of the page and ripped it out of the binding. He tore out every page he'd written except the last one, the one that let Rumplestiltskin back into Storybrooke. Then he shredded the pages. He didn't look back up at his grandfather until nothing remained of his cursed ramblings except handfuls of confetti.

When he did, his heart sank. Silent tears continued to stream down Mr. Gold's face, his eyes still unfocused on anything in this world. Nothing had changed.

Henry looked back at Archie. "Why didn't it work?"

Dr. Hopper shook his head. "I don't know, Henry. Maybe... Coma and trauma patients tend to be able to hear what is going on around them. Maybe it just takes time."

_Trauma?_ Henry looked desperately at Mr. Gold's face. What had he done? There was no denying it now. He had wanted to punish him, as if being forced out of town by his true love into a land without magic wasn't punishment enough. And Henry had been the one to help Belle find the gauntlet in the first place. If he hadn't knocked all that stuff off the cabinet, then Belle might not have found the gauntlet in time to stop Gold from killing Hook and freeing himself from the dagger.

He knew about the prophecy that his grandfather had been running from ever since they had found Baelfire in Manhattan. Everyone thought it had been fulfilled when Gold sacrificed himself to kill Pan. Yet here he was again, twice undone by his grandson. Even if he did wake, he would never be the same.

Henry sat next to him on the cot and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Grandpa," he whispered. "I don't care if you never forgive me, but please, wake up." He hugged him tighter as his own tears started to fall. "You gotta wake up. You have to come home."

Archie came over and put a hand on Henry's shoulder. "It's time to go."

Henry sniffled. "We can't just leave him like this."

"Belle and the others will look after him," said Archie. "And your moms will let you back in to visit." Henry loosened his grip and wiped at his tears. "You did everything you could, and it is well past your bedtime. Regina will barge in here soon if we don't get you home."

Henry stood and shoved the book back into his bag. He left the shredded pages scattered on the floor. "Goodnight, Grandpa Gold," he said, following Archie out. _We love you. Please come back to us._

Mr. Gold sat there, unmoving except for the tears that fell from slowly blinking, yet unseeing eyes.

_Where once was light, now darkness falls._

_Where once was love, love is no more._

_Don't say goodbye. Don't say I didn't try._

These tears we cry are falling rain

for all the lies you told us, the hurt, the blame.

And we will weep to be so alone.

We are lost. We can never go home.

* * *

**A/N: The lyrics in this chapter are from The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers credits, called "Gollum's Song". Listen to it after you've read the chapter once, then maybe read it again while it plays. I may or may not continue this over the summer. Depends on how the rest of the season plays out and whether or not a plot bunny bites, but this was the intended ending for now.**

**A/N POST SEASON 4 FINALE: Okay, so I was hoping a plot bunny would strike when they were reunited, but that didn't really happen, did it? I mean, it kinda happened, but it ended basically in the same predicament this story is in. Should I press forward regardless? Or keep waiting until who-knows-when next season, by which point this fic will be all but obsolete? Or should this story be left as-is and marked complete?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Gone Forever (Part 2)**

**A/N: Part 1 was written during the season 4 winter hiatus. I had hoped to write part 2 that summer after Rumbelle reunited, but canon didn't cooperate. After several false-starts, I finally picked up the pieces and kept going anyway. As such, Part 2 includes inspiration, knowledge, and quotes from seasons 5 and 6, but still takes place during season 4, diverging at the hiatus.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"_If they take him away, I would truly, truly become dust."_

_\- Rumplestiltskin (1.08 Desperate Souls)_

The hospital was a flurry of activity when Henry arrived. They had moved Mr. Gold out of the asylum when he'd shown no signs of acting out again. In fact, he'd shown no signs of improvement either. If anything, he was getting worse. He would move only when they guided him or commanded him with the dagger, and he would sit or lay as they placed him. He wouldn't eat, and he wouldn't sleep, only stared straight ahead, blinking slowly every so often, tears leaking from his eyes. Regina managed to replicate Pan's magic-suppressing cuff, so it was safe for them transfer Mr. Gold to a private room upstairs. They hooked him up to monitors and an IV. Belle refused to leave his side at all during visiting hours, and Dr. Whale often caught her staying late. More than once, he had to remind her to get some food and rest. Henry began bringing Granny's takeout with him after school.

He forgot all about the bag of cheeseburgers in his backpack the moment he realized the nurses were rushing to his grandfather's room. Belle was standing in the hall, her hands clasped tightly to her chest, staring at the crowd of medical professionals crammed into Mr. Gold's room.

"What happened?" Henry asked.

"I... I don't know," Belle said, her voice high and rushed. "He was fine, and then..." She shook her head. "It was like a heart attack, but he's the Dark One. He can't have a heart attack. Can he?"

Henry hugged her. "I don't know."

* * *

_Time stopped. It must have, because I sat in that cove for days, and dawn never came. The rocks had stopped their infernal singing by the time my tears had dried, but their melody lingered on. Their song was etched on my soul for all eternity._

You are lost. You can never go home.

_At one point, I tried to take the bodies back to the Dark Castle, but my magic wouldn't respond. I settled for dragging them out of the water, leaning them against the cliff face as if they had fallen asleep sitting there. The effort left me drained. I knelt before them in the sand, slumped back on my heels._

_Belle. Bae. Henry. My pitifully small family, all dead except for me._

_I had once said, back before __everything__, that without Bae I would truly become dust. The only reason I hadn't after Bae __died for me__ was because of Belle. And now, with her gone, my only possible salvation would have been Henry. Bae's son. My __grandson._

_What use is power when it can't bring back the dead? What use am I without someone to live for?_

_I reached into my chest and pulled out my heart. A solid black lump of coal. A tiny flicker of red pulsed somewhere deep inside, struggling and failing. Fading._

_What use is a heart without love?__ It may as well be dust._

_I tightened my grip._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"And then the realization will hit... that death has already come."

\- Mr. Gold (5.11 Swan Song)

_I'd expected to wake up in hell, but the crushing physical pain in my chest made me want to curl up on a __cloud and sleep__ eternity away. After a while, I was able to breathe again with only a minor ache if I moved the wrong way or breathed too deep. My other senses returned then: heat, motion, noise. There was a wooden creaking and rattling in sync with the swaying, sometimes jostling motion beneath me, suggesting a cart of some sort. I also noted the rustling, footfalls, and murmurings of a number of people, though none spoke loud enough to make out any words._

_I opened my eyes and sat up. A caravan of canopied wagons stretched across a desert landscape, a canyon of red rock dropping off to one side not too far away. My wagon was somewhere in the middle of the train, though it was impossible to tell where it began or ended because of how the path wound along __beside the cliff__, disappearing behind pillars of rock or great clusters of boulders perched on the edge of the drop. People walked in a loose line alongside the wagons, climbing up when they wanted a rest, and helping others down while the train kept moving._

_There were five others stretched out asleep in my wagon, and it was then that I noticed the differences in clothes. I still wore my dragonhide leathers, but each of the other sleepers wore outfits from different realms: the Land Without Color, Wonderland, Camelot, Agrabah, even the Land Without Magic. The walkers were similarly diverse, but tended to pair off when they found a fellow traveler from their own realm._

_An Atlantian saw that I was awake and reached out a hand to help me down. I blinked in surprise when my hand met his. I was human again; my curse had no reach here. As I stumbled to get my footing, I decided it was just as well. No telling how these people would have reacted to finding the Dark One asleep in their midst. I was anonymous for the first time in so very long, and I was grateful for it._

_The memory of Belle and Henry lying dead in that dreadful cove next to Bae hung over me, but the pain was little more than a shadow. I should be dead after crushing my heart, but this was not the Underworld, at least not the one I'd been to before. Perhaps it was an in-between place, like the __Netherworld__ or Purgatory, a place souls pass through on their way to whatever came after?_

_When I tried to ask the Atlantian where we were, the sound of my voice was muffled in my ears, though all other sounds were normal. How strange. The Atlantian noticed my confusion and mumbled something in another language, holding up his hands and shrugging._

_So all speech is like that. It was a very strange concept, but logical at the same time. __What use was speech to the dead? What did it matter where we were when it wasn't where we were going?_

_The Atlantian __climbed into the wagon not long after helping me out__, and he never came back. None of them did. The wooden slats on the sides of the wagon made it difficult to identify the sleepers. I kept an eye on the wagon, curious. One moment, the Atlantian was there, but then I happened to look away, and when I looked again, someone else was in his place._

_A short while later, that person woke and sat up. She was helped out of the wagon, just as I was, wearing black robes and a green and silver scarf. Several departures/arrivals later, she too left._

_We walked for miles, the landscape never changing save for variations in rock formations around the canyon. Even the light remained the same dawn/dusk glow, with no visible sun to mark the time. I started measuring time in terms of traveling companions._

_It was then that I began to question my previous assumptions. If those who returned to the wagons were doing so with the intention of taking a rest from walking, then why had I yet to begin feeling any signs of fatigue after all this time? My ankle hadn't bothered me for one moment since waking up here, not even a phantom twinge, as was common with this much walking, regardless of any magical influence. Of course, this place might as well exist outside of time, if it was the in-between place I thought it was._

_Eventually, we came to a place where something changed. The caravan continued around us, but our wagon pulled aside, herding us to the edge of the canyon, where a fraying rope bridge stretched across to the other side. There was no confusion, no panic at the change. It was simply the next stage of the journey. Those who were awake began preparing themselves to cross. The ritualistic materials were readily available, pulled from some unknowable part of the wagon and passed around._

_This was the end, then. Whatever lay in wait on the other side, it was time to move on. My preparations were simple. A part of me had been ready for this since I went to Neverland believing Bae was dead. I had so much more to mourn now. I dipped three fingers into dark, ashy ink and repainted__ those lines__ over my right eye. I could only hope they would allow me to be reunited with everyone I had lost. It was superstitious to believe such a thing, but the last time I had worn this mask, Bae had been returned to me. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be back there, to find a way to defeat Pan without sacrificing myself, to avert the undoing that never ends._

_Looking up, I saw movement on the other side of the canyon. A familiar figure stood there, watching me. Waiting for me, just as he had since the moment I saw my name on his dagger. He'd looked like Zoso at first, responding to my desperate pleas for guidance, but after losing Bae through the portal, I banished him from my mind. When he returned, inevitable as it was, he wore a different face – my own. I learned to match his mockery__,__ and those habits worked their way into my dealings. He'd come and go as he pleased. Only Belle could chase him away, so thoroughly that it never occurred to me to mention him when she was near. I hadn't seen him since the Dark Curse brought us all to Storybrooke, though I could feel his presence every time I used magic, urging me on. Always watching, always eager._

_Was this his end too, then? What new hell was I destined for if he awaited me on the other side? Or was this one last apparition for my dying mind as magic left my body? Was I unleashing him on the world, or had I destroyed him as well as myself?_

_The questions had no weight. They drifted from my thoughts as easily as the observation that one of the bridge's support ropes was frayed beyond hope of lasting long enough to cross. All that mattered was the crossing, and it appeared that I would be first._

_I stepped out onto the bridge. It held, but several steps later, the wooden slats beneath my feet dissolved under an illusion spell, making it appear as if I was walking on air between two guide ropes. I kept going, but now there were voices calling me. __Every voice that had ever called my name whispered around me._

Rumple. Gold. Spindleshanks. Coward. Dark One. Hobblefoot. Threadwhistle. Beast. Crocodile. Monster. Worm. Laddie. Rumplestiltskin. Doll.

Papa.

_The bridge shook as an __invisible__ rope snapped. I lost my footing, falling to my hands and knees, burying my dagger into the unseen planks as an anchor. I hadn't even realized I was holding it._

_The voices grew louder. Bae, my precious boy, reassuring me I'm not the same as my father, forgiving me, loving me. Henry, wanting to work in the shop with me, to learn magic, because I'm the last link he has to his father. Belle, begging me to put aside my hate, to be a better man, a good man, pledging her life and love to me, becoming my wife. Regina, swearing that she would be the one to kill me, not Pan, not his shadow, not some centuries old prophecy, and certainly not my own stupidity. Tears filled my eyes._

"Rumple!"

_Another rope snapped, and I fell sideways, dangling over the canyon by a dagger seemingly embedded in the clouds. I gasped, grasping at invisible straws, unable to get a grip on either wood or rope._

"Grandpa!"

_The dagger began to slip as the angle of its blade crept from horizontal to vertical. I cast around for anything to cling to. The remaining ropes were out of reach, the planks of the bridge invisible, the caravan to one side and my dark companion to the other too far away to help. And below me, a bottomless canyon, stretching onward, forever, void without end._

I need you to waken up, Papa. I love you.

"_Bae!" I cried, watching my grip on the dagger loosen, horrified. "Son, help me!"_

Waken up. I forgive you, Papa.

_I don't want to die. I don't want to fall._

"_Bae, save me!"_

_I can't hold on much longer. I can feel the dagger slipping free of the wood even as my fingers lose their strength._

"_Bae!"_

_I fall._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"_We make mistakes, and throughout our lives, there's no avoiding them."_

_\- Mr. Gold (4.02 White Out – deleted scene)_

Dr. Whale met them in the waiting room. Mr. Gold's heart attack remained inexplicable, but he was out of danger for now. In fact, he was quite healthy physically, which meant, the doctor was reluctant to admit, the cause was likely magical.

"How it that possible?" Regina asked. She, Emma, and Mary Margaret had arrived while Henry and Belle were waiting for news. "The cuff is supposed to block magic."

"Maybe you didn't do it right," Emma suggested. That same comment coming from Grandpa Gold, Henry knew, would have put Regina on the defensive with its snarkiness, but coming from Emma just didn't have the same effect.

They were all tired and worried. Banishment was one thing, but none of them wanted to watch Mr. Gold die a second time, even if it was just for Henry's sake. If any of them had considered giving up and letting him stay in this strange waking coma, they hadn't mentioned it in front of Henry.

"Rumple was wearing the cuff when he killed Pan," Belle said. "He couldn't use magic, but he was still able to call his shadow."

"He also didn't have to use his cane," Henry pointed out. Mr. Gold without his cane was a sight he was still getting used to.

Regina nodded. "Which means we're just as clueless as Dr. Frankenstein. The cuff works, but not on all forms of magic."

"There has to be some way we can keep an eye on him," Belle said. "Some way to predict another magical attack that the hospital equipment won't catch."

Regina shook her head, and Emma slowly looked over at Henry. He knew from her expression she was about to apologize, but as she opened her mouth, she paused, staring at Henry as if he'd said something unexpected.

"There is a way," she whispered.

Now it was her turn to be stared at. "Emma?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma had that dazed look she got when confronted with evidence that challenged her Land Without Magic beliefs. She shook it off and turned to Belle. "You and Gold," she said. "You're _Beauty and the Beast_." She turned back to Henry before Belle could process her confusion enough to respond. "Right, kid?"

_Right, but... _Oh.

Henry grinned, and Emma smiled back. "The rose!" he blurted, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for a waiting room.

"The _what_?" Regina snapped, but Emma was already summoning her magic.

A ball of light glowed between her hands before expanding into the shape of a bell jar. The light faded inward, first revealing the glass jar, its wooden base, and then finally the beautiful red rose suspended inside. Before it was even fully formed, several petals broke loose and drifted to the bottom of the case.

Emma handed the rose over to Belle saying, "Gold's alive, and as long as there are petals left on the rose, there's a chance we might be able to help him."

Regina snorted and turned away, but Henry suspected she was secretly impressed. Or she would be, once she stopped being miffed that it hadn't been her idea.

Belle held the case gingerly, as though afraid a single jolt would knock all the petals off. "So many have fallen already." She frowned, brushing the glass with the fingers of her right hand.

"Can you blame him?" Mary Margaret asked. "Heart attack or not, whatever happened to him, it wasn't minor." She put a hand on Belle's knee. "The important thing to remember is that there's still hope."

"Until the last petal falls," Belle murmured.

"Yeah," Henry said. "Which is why we need to figure out what we're going to do before that happens."

"We'll start in the library," Mary Margaret said. "Will you help us, Belle?"

After a worried glance in the direction of Mr. Gold's room, Belle nodded. She looked up at Dr. Whale. "Can I see him before I go?"

"Of course. I'll be nearby in case you need anything." The doctor smiled and left to check on other patients.

Despite having permission, Belle didn't get up right away. Instead, she sat there staring at the rose in her lap while the others hashed out a plan that involved figuring out how to release everyone that Mr. Gold had sucked into the Sorcerer's hat. Hook had told Emma that in addition to the fairies, there was an old man who had seemed to know about the hat and the Dark One. Between him, the Blue Fairy, and Regina, they had to have a shot at hitting on a solution.

Henry only half-listened to the plan. Like Belle, he was too wrapped up in is own thoughts. It all came back to the book. He had written in one of the Sorcerer's blank storybooks, not realizing the price that would come of it. The only good thing his writing had done was break the curse on the town border, but what was that compared to the threat to Grandpa Gold's life? It was all Henry's fault, and nothing he'd tried had helped a bit.

He remembered the look in his grandfather's eyes when Henry convinced him to let him help out in the pawnshop. It had been an undercover scheme for Operation Mongoose, but Henry had told Grandpa Gold it was because he was his only remaining link to his father. He felt a little guilty about that, especially after Mr. Gold had mistaken Henry for Baelfire during his hallucination in the library.

It was obvious how much Grandpa Gold missed his son, just by how his whole demeanor would change at the mention of him. Henry had talked to Dr. Hopper about it after the incident in the library. If the hallucinations were based on what Henry had written in the storybook, then that moment never should have happened. Dr. Hopper suggested that intense emotional attachment could explain how Henry had been momentarily able to break through the curse. Under the circumstances, he felt it would not be unusual for Mr. Gold to still be in mourning. The loss of his son and the aftermath of his enslavement had to weigh heavily on him, no matter how much he had tried to suppress it. Dr. Hopper suspected it had a large influence on the events leading up to his banishment.

And now he was trapped inside a cursed dreamworld of Henry's design, a place where everyone he loved was stripped from him until there was nothing left, not even hope. A fate worse than banishment.

It would have been better if Mr. Gold hadn't come back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"_If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be alive."_

_\- Mr. Gold (5.06 The Bear and the Bow)_

A week later, they ran out of time.

Every book in Mr. Gold's shop had been examined at least twice, but there was no mention of Dark One heart attacks or Author-induced hallucinations. Regina had discovered a spell that might be useful for freeing those trapped in the hat, but it was written in a language that defied translation. It was just their luck that the one person most likely to be able to read it was the one person they were trying to wake with the help of those trapped inside the hat.

Henry and Belle visited the hospital every day to check on him. Since the heart attack, Mr. Gold hadn't opened his eyes once, and the petals continued to fall from the enchanted rose. When Henry met Belle after school that day, there were six petals left. An hour later, they were down to three, and they both agreed to stay until the end.

Apart from the pale blue hospital gown in place of his black suits, Mr. Gold looked unchanged. The heart monitor continued to beep regularly, and the rose was the only indication that something was terribly wrong. They were losing him, and Henry feared they wouldn't be able to save him. What miracle could they possibly come up with in less than an hour?

Henry sat with the storybook open on his lap. The first several pages had been ripped out in an attempt to reverse the damage, but when that hadn't worked, Henry had started writing in it again. He wasn't sure what had caused the magic to work the first time, so he just wrote whatever he thought of to try, everything from journal entries and apologies to alternate universes where Mr. Gold had gone to New York or came back unaffected because Henry hadn't written in a storybook. The page he had open now was blank. Every time he thought he knew what he wanted to write, the words slipped away from him.

All he could focus on was how that third petal was perilously close to falling. How Belle sat next to Grandpa Gold's bed, stroking his hair with one hand and holding his left hand to her chest with the other. Wondering if he could hear her whispering to him, if he knew they were there, worried about him. Or was he already halfway to the afterlife? Was Henry's father waiting for him? Or was there a separate place for Dark Ones, one where Rumplestiltskin would never see his son or any of his loved ones ever again?

When that third petal fell, Henry started writing. He had to fix this. It didn't matter how. He just had to write Grandpa Gold out of the mess he had put him in.

Belle's sniffles as the second to last petal fell only distracted Henry for half a moment. He had to keep writing. They could fall apart later, but there was still one petal left, and Henry wasn't about to let it fall.

The sudden, sustained beep of the heart monitor had Henry jumping out of his seat, the book dropping to the floor along with his pen. Belle was leaning over Grandpa Gold as though she had just kissed him. Her panicked expression as she looked from the flat-lining heart monitor to Henry confirmed his fear. True Love's Kiss hadn't worked. Belle's gaze darted towards the glass dome of the enchanted rose where it sat on the nightstand, and Henry's followed. The last petal hung limp on the stem, held on by the barest thread of plant fiber. They still had a chance.

"Rumple!" Belle called, squeezing his hand and shaking his shoulder. "Can you hear me? Please, wake up!"

Nurses flooded the room, surrounding the bed and setting up the crash cart, Dr. Whale not far behind. Someone kicked the storybook under the bed, and Belle and Henry were herded out of the room. Just before he got to the door, Henry saw the last petal fall.

"Grandpa!"

He felt like he was drowning, swept away by a current he had no control over. The nurse getting them out of the room wasn't fast enough. He saw them trying to revive Grandpa Gold, saw his body convulse on the bed as the electricity shot through him. Henry fought to get back in the room, shouting his grandfather's name over the sounds of medical chaos. Dr. Whale was preparing to shock Mr. Gold again, and Henry couldn't let it happen.

At the last moment, the heart monitor stopped its screeching and gave a feeble beep. Everyone stopped and watched the screen. Another beep, followed by two more, stronger now. Dr. Whale put down the paddles as a steady pattern emerged, and Henry squeezed past the nurse blocking the doorway. Once inside, he didn't know what to do anymore, so he sat down out of the way and let the nurses do their job. Belle inched back in, merely nodding in response to Dr. Whale's instructions to notify him of any change. She sat down next to the bed, not once looking away from Mr. Gold.

When the room was quiet again, Henry remembered the rose. He looked, expecting to see... he wasn't sure. A wilted stem? A fresh bud? A couple fallen petals reattaching themselves? Instead, a full bloom greeted him, with only three petals remaining limp on the wooden base.

"Belle..." The hoarse whisper startled Henry.

Grandpa Gold's eyes were open! He stared at Belle like he was still half asleep, but he was awake at last!

"I'm here, Rumple," Belle said, gripping his hand.

Henry got up and stood on the other side of the bed. "I'm here too, Grandpa."

Brown eyes shifted towards him, a hand lifting weakly. Henry caught it and held tight.

"I'm sorry..."

"You're alive now. That's all that matters."

Grandpa Gold's eyes widened, and tears welled up. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He closed his eyes, causing the tears to run down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Belle stroked his hair. "Hush, it's all right."

Grandpa Gold just shook his head, more tears leaking from beneath his eyelids. "No," he whispered. "It's not all right. It will _never_ be all right."

Belle looked at Henry and mouthed the words _Get Dr. Hopper_. Henry nodded. Grandpa Gold had his face turned towards him, away from Belle, but his eyes were closed and his hand limp in Henry's. He didn't even react when Henry carefully released his hand and slipped out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"_All the dark deeds I've done... They've taken their toll."_

_\- Mr. Gold (4.18 Heart of Gold)_

Henry's first stop was the nurse's station to have someone notify Dr. Whale that Mr. Gold was awake. His second stop was the lobby, where he called Archie and waited the ten minutes it took for him to arrive. He didn't explain much over the phone, just said that his grandfather was awake and they needed him right away.

What else was there to say? That the most powerful man in town, the one that everybody feared, _cried_ and _apologized_ to the wife who banished him and the grandson who cursed him? Henry had _never_ seen him cry before, or admit guilt or failure with such utter lack of hope. The Rumplestiltskin he knew always had a plan, always had some trick up his sleeve, ready to save the day, even if it _was_ dark magic. Even when he died, killing Pan in order to save everyone, he still had that spark of life, of hope. Not that he'd survive, of course. He had accepted his fate. But he died with the hope that his loved ones would be able to find their happy endings without him. Seeing him so broken now was concerning, and certainly not something Henry wanted to share with everyone who might overhear him in the hospital lobby.

* * *

The next time Rumplestiltskin woke, the ghosts were gone. Dr. Whale stood at the foot of his bed, making notes on a clipboard. When he saw that Gold was awake, he smirked and launched into some ridiculous drivel about science besting magic, no doubt with the intention of getting him to concede their decades-old rivalry.

Rumple wasn't listening.

He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. The last thing he remembered was falling from that bridge into the canyon. A portal must have opened up beneath him. It was the only explanation. He caught the words "heart attack" and "coma" as Whale prattled on, and figured that had to account for the missing time. He'd crushed his own heart and survived; no doubt it registered as a heart attack as far as Whale's "science" was concerned. His curse must have done the rest, keeping him in a coma until the damage was repaired.

Only, it couldn't be repaired, could it?

* * *

His next visitor was the cricket.

"How are you feeling?" Hopper asked.

Rumple did his best to glare, but it was too much effort. "Like I should have stayed dead."

Hopper blinked and took a deep breath, closing the door to give them some privacy. "How much do you remember?"

"Enough."

The shrink took a seat away from the door. "Can you tell me what happened after Belle banished you?"

_She died._ "What does it matter?"

"It could matter a great deal, Mr. Gold. You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks. I'm only trying to help."

Rumple closed his eyes. Of course. They were looking for answers. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn't Regina or Emma hovering over him when he was so weak he couldn't even feel his magic. He wondered if it had been Hopper's idea. He doubted anyone else would have been considerate enough to keep Henry's moms off the warpath. Although, there was a high chance that they'd be bursting in here the moment Dr. Hopper left if he didn't say anything.

"I know what you're asking, but I can't give it to you." He had to distance himself from his next words. "They were dead when I found them." He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, focusing on his breathing and the shape of the light fixture in an effort to banish the memory of the cove. Thankfully, Hopper didn't ask who. Rumple didn't think he could make himself say it without breaking.

After a moment, Hopper cleared his throat. "Can we perhaps start with the town line?"

Rumple sighed. Fine. He'd stick to the basics. He didn't need to be psychoanalyzed by a cricket. "The barrier came down, I stepped across, and somehow ended up in the Enchanted Forest." He gestured with his hands as he spoke, but his movements felt heavy and not worth the effort.

"Like a portal, you mean?"

He wanted to snap at him, but couldn't manage it. "Yes. No. Not a visible one, anyway." Why was everything so muddled? He tried to remember what came next, but all he could see was the cove.

"Why the Enchanted Forest?" Hopper asked.

"Portals take you to wherever, or whomever, you're thinking of." They were getting dangerously close to what he wanted to avoid.

"Belle?"

_Shit_.

He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to come, and prayed the doctor wouldn't press any further.

"You said 'they' before. Who else did you find?"

Shouldn't he know this already? He didn't think the cricket was stupid enough not to be able to connect the dots. But no, that wasn't a shrink's way, was it? He'd keep asking questions until Rumple told him what he was digging for.

He looked directly at Dr. Hopper. "There was a cove. Belle, Henry... Their bodies washed ashore, and I couldn't do anything." His vision blurred with tears. "We're done here. Tell the others I'm sorry about the boy... about everything." He closed his eyes and turned his head away. The tears spilled over, leaving wet trails down his face that he didn't have the strength to wipe away. He was too tired to fight it anymore.

So he cried.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"_I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."_

_\- Rumplestiltskin (3.04 Nasty Habits)_

When Dr. Hopper emerged from Mr. Gold's room, he motioned for Belle and Henry to follow him back to the lobby. Once there, he sat them down and told them what he'd learned.

"He believes you two are dead."

"What?" Belle gasped. "How? We were there when he woke up. He spoke to us."

Archie fiddled with the hat in his hands. "I can only assume he believed you weren't really there. Like an apparition or hallucination. He was extremely reluctant to talk about what he experienced. I can't say how much he remembers from it, but I do believe the only reason he told me anything was because he thought Henry's family sent me to interrogate him."

"But you did tell him we're okay, right?" Henry sat on the edge of his seat. "That we're not dead, and we really were there when he woke up?"

"No, Henry. I don't think that would be very helpful at the moment. Your grandfather just woke up from an intense magical hallucination, during which he suffered two heart attacks. Whatever he experienced these past two weeks, he recognizes it as reality. If we reveal to him the truth right now, we run the risk that he'll reject all of us as the hallucination."

"So what can we do?" Belle asked.

"We give him time to adjust. Let him come to the truth on his own. Visit him, but be mindful of how he reacts. If he asks you to leave, do so. Don't try to convince him you're real, but don't act like a ghost either. Talk to the nurses and anyone else who comes into the room. If he questions you, don't confirm his assumptions. Let him come to his own conclusions."

_Easier said than done_, Henry thought.

* * *

The third time he woke, Rumplestiltskin noticed the rose. It sat on the table next to his bed, floating suspended beneath a glass dome. Three petals lay fallen beneath it. _Three_. One for each of those he'd lost in the cove.

He blinked. That wasn't right. Bae had died here, in the forest. Had he dreamed his son was there? That had to be it. He'd been so destroyed by his grief that he'd crushed his own heart. Recalling another reminder of his failure was hardly surprising.

They'd all been there at the canyon, though, even if he couldn't see them. The dead had wanted him to live. He realized that now. Falling from that bridge hadn't meant death. It was life, the portal that would return his soul to his body. Bae, Belle, Henry. They knew that. The thought of their love wrapped him in warmth so tender he thought he might cry again.

He closed his eyes and tried to hold on to that feeling. He wanted to bottle it, preserve it for the rest of his life so he'd never have to fall asleep at night without its comforting embrace. He was a fool to have thrown it away by deceiving Belle with the dagger.

The whiff of her lavender perfume was stronger than a memory, cutting through the antiseptic stink of the hospital. It electrified his senses, set his heart beat racing, and suddenly there she was, holding his hand and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Hey," she said when their eyes met.

"Hey." He breathed in her perfume and sighed. If this was a dream, at least it was a good dream. "Belle..."

"Shhh. It's okay, Rumple. You don't have to worry about us. We're okay."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry about the dagger. I should have given it back to you after I killed Zelena. I was going to... I-I-I did, in fact. For a moment. But then I saw the box containing the Sorcerer's hat... and I couldn't." Belle was frowning at him, but didn't pull away, so he continued. "I _needed_ that hat to free myself from the dagger's control without sacrificing my magic."

"You don't _need_ magic."

"Every Dark One tried to get that hat. Only I succeeded. I _needed_ to do what I did. I _needed_ to be free from Zelena ever happening again." She didn't look convinced. He shook his head and withdrew his hand from hers. He missed the contact almost immediately, but forced the ache aside, wrapping his arms across his torso as tight as the hospital wires and his weakened limbs would allow. "Why do I even bother? I don't know if you're a ghost or an hallucination, dearie, but I can't make you understand. You're not real." He had turned away and closed his eyes as he spoke, but he still heard her intake of breath.

"Rumple..."

"If you were real, if you weren't..." He couldn't say it, not with the memory of her so close, so _lifelike_. "You wouldn't be here. I'm only a beast, remember? I don't deserve a chance to explain. You can't even trust me enough when you hold my dagger in your hands to permit me to stay." His fists clenched in an effort to will away the tears forming beneath his eyelids. His next words came out as a harsh whisper. "You banished me. You sent me away and you _died_." He broke, drowning. "You died because I wasn't _good_ enough to protect you."

A cool hand touched his. "Isn't there anything I can do?"

"Stay," he sobbed, not caring that she wasn't real. "Don't leave me."

So long as he didn't look, he could pretend that she was really there.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"_The future is like a puzzle with missing pieces. Difficult to read, and never, never what you think."_

_\- Mr. Gold (2.14 Manhattan)_

Even though Grandpa Gold still thought Henry and Belle were ghosts, Dr. Hopper had them wait outside while he spoke to him. It would be a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality, he said, when Gold eventually came to realize they had been there the whole time. It wasn't right for those he cared about to take advantage of his temporary delusion like that, even if he never said anything to Archie that he wouldn't want them to hear.

It was hard, though, especially on bad days when Grandpa Gold spoke to them as if seeing spirits was just a fact of life. More than once, he'd asked Henry why Neal hadn't come to see him yet. Henry never had an answer for him that wouldn't break Dr. Hopper's rules, and it hurt to see his grandfather interpret his silence as confirmation that Neal was angry with Mr. Gold for letting Henry die. He'd try to deny it, but Mr. Gold would just shrug it off and change the subject. On really bad days, he'd beg Henry or Belle to stay when he saw Dr. Hopper arrive, and they would have to promise to return before he would let go of them.

The only good thing about Archie's visits was that Henry had been able to convince him to ask Mr. Gold about translating the spell required to free those trapped in the hat. The psychiatrist had refused to allow anyone else in to see Mr. Gold, particularly Henry's mom's, for fear of his patient's reaction. Within a month of Grandpa Gold's waking, Archie succeeded in obtaining the translation, and Regina freed the prisoners the next day.

The old man Hook had helped trap turned out to be the Sorcerer's apprentice. Because of his familiarity with the Dark One curse, he became the first person to be allowed to sit in on one of Archie's sessions with Mr. Gold. When he came out, he asked to speak with Henry.

"Dr. Hopper tells me you've been writing in one of the books you found in the mansion." The Apprentice's tone was soft, but Henry still felt like he'd been sent to the principal's office for misbehaving.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he murmured.

"No, of course not," the Apprentice said, taking a seat next to Henry. "But the fact remains that it did. May I see the book?"

Henry pulled it out of his backpack and handed it over. "I don't know how much help it will be. I tore out the pages that caused this."

The Apprentice flipped through the pages, lingering on the untidy chicken scratch on the last used page. "This was the last thing you wrote before he woke?"

"Yeah. But it didn't do anything. Even True Love's Kiss didn't work. He almost died."

"Are you sure?"

Henry blinked. "What?"

"Are you sure it had no effect?" The Apprentice smiled, showing Henry the scribbles on that last page.

The marks were etched firmly into the paper, crisp and dark and threatening to bleed through to the other side, if it didn't tear a hole first. He couldn't even read his own writing, the words slanting this way and that and running over each other. He tried to remember what he wrote, but could only recall the fear and desperate need to save his grandfather before the last petal fell.

"What's written in the book is very hard to undo," the Apprentice continued. "It can't change the past, but if the Author has enough belief and desire, it can influence the present."

"But I'm not the Author."

"Are you sure?" the Apprentice asked again. "You have the Heart of the Truest Believer. In time, I think you may be worthy to be trusted with the Author's pen. In the meantime, I suggest you stay away from writing in the storybooks."

"I'm sorry. I never should have touched it."

The Apprentice hummed and nodded. "But then your grandfather would still be banished and the nuns and I would still be trapped inside the hat." He stood, patting Henry on the shoulder. "Come. It is time we make things right."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So sorry for the wait! But it's finally here: the conclusion to Gone Forever. I know I left a lot of gaps in this story, so if you have any prompts for this verse, I will consider doing some one-shots for it.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"_For you... I would be the best man I can be."_

_\- Rumplestiltskin (6.01 The Savior)_

Today had been a better day on the whole than any other day that month. When he'd woken from what Dr. Whale called a coma, Rumple's limbs had been stiff and heavy. The first time he tried to get out of bed, he'd nearly fallen because his legs refused to support him. Thank the gods he didn't know any of the nurses. It was bad enough having to listen to Whale harp on the "wonders of science" reviving the Dark One without having to suffer the nurses' condescending assistance with basic tasks as well. As it was, they remained professional, as if he was just another grumpy patient among many.

The worst part had been the magic-dampening cuff on his wrist. It had been there since before he woke, and no one would remove it for him. That first day, he'd been certain the cuff was to blame for his physical weakness. But each day, his strength returned until he was able to move about without assistance. He could leave here tomorrow if only the cricket would just sign off on his release.

It wasn't that easy, though. Try as he might to hide his grief, Rumple always had the strange sense that Hopper knew about his visions. Be they ghosts or hallucinations, no doctor in his right mind would let an unhinged Dark One loose on the town, cuff or no.

It didn't help that Rumple was beginning to think they'd never go away completely. It was frightening how _normal_ seeing dead loved ones seemed. After all, it really wasn't too different from seeing manifestations of former Dark Ones. The only thing reminding him it wasn't real was Bae's continued absence. He'd heard his voice at the canyon, and yet neither Belle nor Henry had been able to answer his questions about why Bae hadn't visited. Hallucinations they may be, but Rumplestiltskin preferred their company to the prospect of living the rest of his long life alone and purposeless.

The Apprentice's visit with Dr. Hopper had been the most interesting thing to happen all month, so he was surprised to see him back so soon, unaccompanied.

"Hello, Dark One," the old man said, handing him a large, leather-bound book. "I expect you know what this is?"

The weight of it was heavy in his lap. As if on cue, his grandson's ghost appeared in the doorway, watching. Rumple swallowed, looking up at the Apprentice and trying his best to ignore the vision that lingered in the corner of his eye. "Of course I do. One of your master's storybooks."

"Open it, Rumplestiltskin."

A whisper of fear shot through him. The Sorcerer had always been the enemy of the Dark Ones, all the way back to the very first. Was this some trick to finish him off while the cuff held him helpless?

The Apprentice must have seen his distrust in his face. "It's not a trick."

Scowling at having been read so easily, Rumple opened the book. Inside was sloppy, unrefined handwriting, far from the careful script he'd expected. There were no pictures either, unlike the book Henry had taken to carrying everywhere back when Emma first came to town. He paused and began to read.

Much of it made little sense, snippets of life in Storybrooke that had never happened, and some that seemed highly unlikely given the personalities of those mentioned. He seemed to be the focus of the writer's intentions, with a healthy dose of Regina and Robin thrown in for good measure. He couldn't figure out why though until he started to notice the prevalence of "I'm sorry" and "please wake up" and finally "Grandpa".

In spite of his determination not to show weakness in front of a lifelong adversary, Rumple's fingers drifted up to brush across the words. _Henry_. This was his book, his writing, and from the look of it, he had been trying to find a way to wake Rumple from his... trance? coma? … which Henry seemed to believe he'd caused. Rumple frowned. It must be a trick of some kind. The only way Henry could possibly have written this was if...

Rumple quit breathing, his heartbeat accelerating with a rush of not-quite fear. He was here.

He was here the whole time.

Rumple looked up from the book and straight at his grandson lingering in the doorway. The boy took a half step back, looking as nervous as Rumple felt. "H-Henry?" he stuttered. "Y-You... Y-You're real? You're alive?"

Henry released the breath he'd been holding and smiled. "Yeah. Welcome back."

Rumple blinked as his vision blurred with unshed tears. He reached out a trembling hand and sobbed when his grandson came to him. He pulled him close and wrapped him in a hug, sobbing again when he felt Henry hug him back. "You beautiful boy," he whispered. "You saved me."

Henry's reply was muffled until Rumple relaxed his grip on him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anything would happen. It was just a book."

Rumple patted the boy's shoulder. "Hush, now. Sometime soon, you'll have to tell me everything that happened, but for now I've got two questions for you."

Henry nodded.

Rumple hesitated only a moment, both dreading and needing an answer. In the end he couldn't even form a proper question. "Belle...?"

Henry's eyes widened. "Oh, right. No. I mean, yes," he rushed to correct his slip when he realized how it sounded. "Yes, she's okay. She's really been here the whole time, too. Just before you woke, she even tried True Love's Kiss, but because everything was happening at once, we don't know what actually woke you."

"I see," Rumple said. "That explains the good doctor's insufferable smugness since then." He drummed his fingers on the book in his lap. "But that still leaves my other question." He watched Henry squirm, shifting from foot to foot as though expecting a scolding, and smirked. "How could _my_ grandson think that anything in the Sorcerer's mansion could be _just a book_?" He changed the inflection of his voice at the end and twirled a hand in the air in the hopes of getting the boy to smile. He ended with his head tilted to one side and a soft smile on his lips as he observed the meaning of his question sinking in.

Finally, Henry seemed to relax. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that was a little silly, wasn't it?" He let out a tiny breath of a laugh, one that told Rumplestiltskin that he still hadn't forgiven himself yet, but that was to be expected. Regina had raised a good kid, despite being the Evil Queen.

Movement in the doorway caught his eye, and his contentment evaporated. He didn't know when the Apprentice had left the room, but now here was Belle, and he didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to face the wife who had banished him with his own dagger?

"Hey," she said, stopping just inside the door. Rumple just stared.

Henry looked between them and headed for the door. "I'll just let you two talk, okay?" He was gone before Rumple could stop him.

Belle came to sit beside him. "I hear I'm not a ghost anymore," she said with a teasing smile.

Rumple flinched. "Belle, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not." He sighed. "I'm still not sure how much of it was real."

"Rumple, you were here the whole time."

"My body was, yes. I believe that now. But there are places just as real that don't require physical travel to get to. The sleeping curse is proof of that."

She reached out a hand to touch his arm. The comforting gesture reminded him of the topic he'd rather avoid but needed to resolve. He drew hope and strength from her touch and looked into her eyes as he spoke. "Belle, I know that not wanting me to die isn't the same as wanting to be with me." He wanted to go on, but couldn't find the words.

Belle frowned, but didn't withdraw her hand. "Rumple, there's too much broken trust."

He looked down, rubbing the cuff on his wrist as habitually as if it hadn't been there for only a month. "I know," he said. "I know. But I don't want to give up. I want to be the man you deserve." He pressed on before she could reject him again. "I don't need an answer now. Just promise me you'll consider allowing me the chance to start again, like we did after the first curse."

Belle was silent. When he dared to look up, he found her studying the rose on his bedside table. He wondered for a moment what had caught her attention. The rose had been there since he woke, always floating beneath its glass dome, always with those three petals fallen on the base. In the month he'd been here, it had never changed. So why did Belle find it more interesting than his attempt at reconciliation?

But then he saw what she must have seen. Two of the fallen petals had reattached themselves, though one looked perilously close to falling again, held on by the barest of fibers.

"If you like it so much, you can keep it," he said, stopping just short of letting a derisive _dearie_ slip past his lips. She didn't deserve his scorn. He'd been horrid to her and Henry both for the past month, believing them to be imaginary when in fact they'd stood by him, put up with his nonsense, and never gave up on him.

Belle turned to him, shocked. "Rumple, that's not..." She stopped, shaking her head. "You know what, fine. You can try to earn my trust back, but if we're going to do this, it has to be your choice." She reached for his hand and removed the cuff from his wrist. "You have to decide what matters more to you: me or your power." She put the cuff in her purse, but surprised him when she pulled out his dagger and laid it on the table beside the rose.

Rumple knew he should feel _something_ with the cuff gone and the dagger ostensibly back in his control, but nothing had changed. No rush of magic like a long-denied breath of fresh air. No whispers from the dagger or voices in his head. He reached for the dagger and turned it over in his hands. The decorative pattern covered both sides of the blade.

A hazy memory resurfaced, seeing the Imp on the far side of the canyon bridge. Was the Dark One finally dead? Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure how to feel about that. Could he truly learn to live without magic? Or would he be able to use light magic now, like Regina?

He saw Belle get up to leave, and called out to her. She paused and looked back. A thousand things to say rushed through his mind. Did she know he wasn't the Dark One anymore? How long had the dagger been blank?

In the end, all he could say was, "I'll try."

**The End.**


End file.
